


When Will This be Over?

by CaptainCassidy



Series: Resident Evil: Caduceus [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: AU, Abuse, Bukkake, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loose Relation to Canon, Multi, Nazi References, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, References to Canon, Vaginal tearing, vaginal bleeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 14:53:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18054632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCassidy/pseuds/CaptainCassidy
Summary: If she waited long enough, they would die.





	When Will This be Over?

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this after seeing the tags, and you get triggered, its your own damn fault.
> 
> I wanted to expand on my character Steel, and what drove her to become what she is. Also, dailyprompt on DreamWidth had "when will this be over" as a prompt so... hell yeah.

    Her face was forced flush against his pubic mound, but she refused to gag. That reflex had been spent long ago, and indeed, she had grown used to the abuse. Tears did not prick the corners of her eyes; instead, they remained sharp and focused, waiting for the end. It was all she could do to keep her sanity, to remember that this wasn’t _forever._

    She was yanked off one man and speared onto another. Her lips wrapped around his cock, tongue cradling it as the organ forced its way down her throat. A human might have felt sore and raw, but for her, the pain was numbed as soon as it bloomed. Over and over, a constant give and take of sensations she didn’t want, but _God_ , if only she could feel. If only the marks stayed, or she grew weak, if only she could _feel._

    That had long since been taken from her. Everything that made her human-- what very little of it there was in the first place-- had been torn from her. Just like her autonomy. Just like her _voice._

    Nothing was left, and thus, no matter what they did to her, she would return unharmed. Tear her limb from limb, rape her until she bled semen, open her chest and take a bite of her heart; no matter what, Steel would return. She couldn’t die. Maybe a vat of acid would do the trick, maybe a fire so hot it swallowed the Earth. But by the means of these men, the means of these so called ‘ _scientists_ ,’ she was trapped. No reason to kill her, no reason to let her live.

    The woman was torn from the cock in her mouth, and no semen dribbled out.

_“Good girl, knows to swallow,”_ the voice barely resonated in her mind. It was just a drone of static in the background, something constant and unwavering. It neither upset her nor delighted her. She felt nothing, even as her hand took the phallus of a third man, even as she felt a fourth ejaculate into her hair.

    She felt the second man cut open her slacks. It didn’t phase her. They would provide her clothing as she needed it. She still worked for them, after all. Her needs were always met, at the bare minimum and then less. After all, humans needed so much more than she did.

    He didn’t prepare her, forcing himself into her cunt only with her own saliva. Steel felt something wet, knowing she had bled, but it healed. There was no tear, her body swiftly adapting to the situation. God, if only she could hurt. _If only she could keep bleeding._

    Maybe then, she’d die.

    They would die before her. Steel knew this as well as she knew what each one liked, as well as she knew these labs and its secrets. They would grow old and weak and flaccid, and they would die. Maybe someone would go to their funerals. Maybe she would be forced to. It might take thirty years, it might take twenty minutes. Humans were fragile. Their lives were not guaranteed.

_“Everything that exists is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance,” quote Jean-Paul Sarte._

    Philosophy wasn’t her major. Steel smiled to herself even as she was heartlessly spitroasted by two scientists. The other two had finished, and she was glad for it. Their stamina was pathetic, nothing compared to hers, and no matter how hard they tried, they were unable to find enough people to outlast her. Each time it would end with her sitting on the floor, drenched in fluids, and watching them with sharp, inhuman eyes. She suspected they found it unsettling, if their uncomfortable glances were anything to go by. No one would make eye-contact with her. She enjoyed it immensely.

    The one in her mouth finished first, dumping more semen into her stomach. It tasted foul. These men lived on ramen cups, coffee, and several kinds of stimulants. What worthless people. Their value was weighed by their IQ, and nothing else. At best, they were a waste of space. At worst, they were a plague.

    A virus.

    A sickness that coursed through humanity as its fetid heart pumped oil through its veins. Their kind poisoned all that they touched. She resented them, and yet, she should have been one of them. Her humanity was taken before she was born, via some selective breeding program… some Nazi-esque bullshit that they vehemently refused to acknowledge as such. Some pseudo-lebensborn breeding _bitch_ with special blood and brains and behavior.

    The man behind her finished, and she was dropped onto the cum-stained tile. Whatever. Steel slowly sat upright, wiping her mouth on her wrist. Her eyes remained focused despite her abuse. The men did not look into them.

 

    Steel stepped out of the tiny shower, drying her hair with a coarse towel. Her gaze was bored and featureless, staring into the mirror as an icy woman stared back. She wondered what they saw when they looked at her.

    Black hair. Pale skin. A dark ghost with piercing eyes.

    She hoped it frightened them. It certainly scared her.

    Steel dressed, visibly unenthused. She had to go back into the labs, back to work on that _poison_. It couldn’t make her sick. Sometimes she wished it had killed her. But no, of course she had been special. She was bred to be special.

    The white coat was draped over a blue sweater. She liked the color blue. It was calming and bright, and made her think of the sky she couldn’t see. From the whites and greys of the labs to the blacks and reds of the virus, it offered a splash of _something_.

    Hope was to strong a word.

    Blue eyes ringed with amethyst glared back at her from the mirror. Cat-like (or perhaps reptile? Certainly that was more uncanny) eyes remained steady on themselves. They were awful. They should have been taken instead of her voice.

    A scar spanned the expanse of her neck. A botched surgery before the infection. Something that would never grow back, despite her rate of healing. For all that she was, she could not have what was taken from her. What a cruel joke. The sickness did more damage than good.

    She wondered if there was an end in sight. One day, these humans would die. One day, everyone she had ever known would be of dust and ash. She had no problem with this. In fact, she waited eagerly for that day to come. Maybe then she would be free.

    Or perhaps she would be given to another, just as Goddrad had given her to Tanner.

 

    She couldn’t dwell on when it would end. Only what she could do to last.


End file.
